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* Rhys comes in from the kitchen, lights the lamps with a wave of his hand, heads to the door, and unlocks it with his key. "Hall's open." * Rhys returns back behind the bar, pours himself a small mug of water, and settles in. * Adam ducks to keep from hitting his head on the door frame. "Evening Rhys. Ale please." <Rhys> Good evening, Adam. ::Rhys pours Adam a mug of dark brown ale.:: Let me know when you'll need another. How've you been? * Adam takes a long drink as he sits down. "All right. Business seems to have leveled out finally. No more months where the amount of money I can bring in is limited to how much sleep I want, but also no more month spent twiddling my thumbs, so I'd say I'm ahead overall." <Adam> And you Rhys? <Rhys> Oh, the Hall keeps me busy enough. I make progress on the books and then I put them aside and don't get back to them until I've lost what time I've made and then have to get back to it all over again. I abide. <Adam> ::chuckle:: Sometimes makes you want to pull up stakes and just start all over somewhere else doesn't it? * Tarri enters, wearing a very nice blue dress and a short string of pearls at her throat. A velvet ribbon adorns her hair, and her face might be just the slightest bit pale. She's carrying a sheaf of papers. <Tarri> Hello... ::she smiles at Adam and Rhys, and takes a seat at the bar:: <Rhys> Oh, no. I'm too set in my ways to head out again and start all over. I suppose I'll just tend bar here until I-- well, good evening, Miss Mandeil. You're quite the sight this evening. What can I get you? <Tarri> A glass of white wine? Please? <Adam> Evening Tarri. How are you? * Rhys finds a goblet on the racks and a bottle of white wine under the bar. He gets the cork out after a small struggle and pours Tarri a glass of wine. "Here you are, Miss." <Tarri> I'm... not really sure. ::she riffles her papers, then gives Adam a quick smile:: I just purchased my clinic. ::she pauses:: *My* clinic. ::she smiles a little wider:: It sounds nice. <Adam> ::chuckle:: Still a bit shocked over putting that much money down for something? * Glossaria enters. A pair of inky fingerprints adorn one cheek, and she looks a little tired. "Good evening, everyone." <Rhys> Good evening, Madame duNache. What can I get you tonight? <Tarri> ::nods:: It's a little frightening... I don't really have any money left, not after all the arrangements I made last week for supplies. If the clinic doesn't do well, things'll be pretty tight. <Adam> Evening Glossaria. Been working hard? * Adam smiles reassuringly at Tarri, "I'm sure you'll do fine Tarri. It's not like you haven't had experience with some of the most injury prone people in the city." <Glossaria> Hm... a glass of... juice, I think. And... do you have any fruit? Melon, perhaps? <Tarri> ::giggles, a little nervously:: Well, that's true. I just... Orlann's said he can afford to pick up the whole rent for a few months, if he has to, but I don't want to have to rely on him for it... <Glossaria> Aye, I've been copying. I thought I'd take a break and give the Kitchen a bit of a rest. * Orlann stomps into the Hall, still in his uniform, looking both angry and disgusted. He pauses, just inside the door, to take a few deep breaths. <Adam> Evening Orlann. Bad day? <Rhys> I believe we have a cantaloupe. Or perhaps it's a honeydew. I'm not sure. Yes, we have some melon. And juice. Would you like... apple? I can't remember if you've a preference or not. And good evening, lieutenant. What would you like? * Tarri starts to greet Gloss, then stops as Orlann enters. She smiles in greeting, then pauses again at the look on his face. "...Orlann? What's wrong?" <Orlann> Whiskey, iffen y'please, Master Altain. ::he takes several more breaths in an attempt to calm down:: Stupid, blunder-heading politickin' fools. <Glossaria> ::automatically:: If the flesh is pale orange in color, it's most likely cantaloupe. Honeydew is green-fleshed, although some species appear white or even yellow. And apple would suffice. I'm experimenting. I've not tested the full range of non-alcoholic beverages, now that I consider it. <Tarri> ::looks startled at Orlann's choice of drink:: What happened? * Glossaria takes a seat carefully on a stool, smoothing her pale green gown underneath her and folding her hands in her lap. "Good evening, Lieutenant Orlann. You sound like you've been dealing with city bureaucracy." * Rhys fetches a glass off the racks, and pours Orlann a few fingers in the glass. "Here, lieutenant. And I know how to differentiate the two, Madame duNache. I just don't remember which I purchased at the market. And apple juice it will be." He finds a mug and fills it with apple juice from the taps. * Orlann sits down on his stool somewhat rigidly. "Evenin', darling. Purchase go all right?" He takes the glass and drains it with a professional flick of the wrist. <Glossaria> Thank you, Master Rhys. ::accepting her glass and draining half of it thirstily:: * Rhys refills Orlann's rocks glass. <Rhys> If you'll excuse me, I'm going to answer the question of what I purchased from the produce merchant, and possibly see if I left my memory next to the melon. I'll be back shortly. ::Rhys heads back into the kitchen:: <Orlann> ::sighs:: Oh, new law's just come down what's gonna make my job that much more difficult an' annoyin'. <Tarri> ::puts a hand on her stack of papers, almost protectively:: Everything went fine. I signed the papers and turned over the chit for the money, and then I went 'round to all the suppliers and told them they can deliver everything in a month, after I've had my vacation and then had some time to clean the place up... So now I'm poor again. ::she grins nervously:: But what happ- A new law? What law? * Glossaria raises her eyebrows, patting her lips dry and then absently starting to chew on the napkin. <Orlann> Tis now required that anyone providin' evidence needs t'be investigated... an' be a 'credible witness' and 'not coerced' - by which they mean t'ensure we get truthful information, but... hells, half th'people we talk to is half-criminal themselves. Ain't no one gonna talk now, for fear of "investigation". * Adam takes a draw from his mug, watching Orlann. * Rhys comes back with slices of a light green melon on a plate. "And the answer is honeydew. Here you are, Glossaria. Would you like a damp cloth for your hands, or your cheek, to clean up first?" <Tarri> ::frowns and bites her lip:: I don't suppose that includes any kind of... you know... A guarantee that the witnesses won't themselves be charged, during an investigation for something else, or... Oh, that wouldn't make any sense, either... ::sighs:: That does sound pretty ridiculous, love. <Glossaria> ::blinks:: My hands? My cheek? ::blinks and looks down at her hands, noticing that the first two fingers of her right hand are black:: Oh dear. Here too? ::gestures to her cheek:: I'm afraid I fell asleep with my pen in my hand. * Rhys finds a clean cloth under the counter, wets it, and gives it to Glossaria. "Quite all right." <Orlann> It's downright foolhardy... ::turns to Glossaria:: Iffen someone was t'hit you upside th' head an' take yer things, would you go t'the Dragons iffen it meant y'd have t'be investigated? An' could be charged, iffen anything was found illegal about you? <Tarri> ::blinks at Glossaria:: Fell asleep? ::she grins:: I thought it was Lady Natovna who never slept, not you... Are you well? These late summer colds can be so deceptive... <Glossaria> ::rubs at her fingers and cheek:: If someone attempted to rob me, I would... well, I admit, I would most likely take the law into my own hands, first, regardless of investigation. ::blushes:: <Glossaria> I... well... ::her blush deepening as takes another sip of juice:: I... I do believe I've come down with something. ::she puts a hand to her mouth, covering the sudden smile twitching at the corners of her mouth:: * Tarri slides off her stool to massage Orlann's shoulders. "Try to relax, love... If there's nothing you can do about it..." She glances at Glossaria. "Do you? I've got some pretty good cough syrup, back home - it even doesn't taste too awful. Should I run and fetch some for you?" <Orlann> ::laughs, a bit forced:: Don't y'be believin' that. It smells right horrid. <Glossaria> Oh! No, thank you, it wouldn't be good-- that is... that's not... *precisely* the sort of ailment I suffer from. <Tarri> ::lightly slaps Orlann's shoulder, and starts to say something in response, but then notes Glossaria's stumbling and gives her a peculiar look:: What *is* it, then...? <Glossaria> ::covering another smile:: That is to say... my *particular* ailment is better served by a midwife than an herbalist. And by all accounts, I should recover in... approximately 32 weeks, 4 days. ::smiling wider:: Give or take. * Adam looks questioningly at Glossaria over his mug. <Rhys> Well, Madame duNache! Congratulations! This explains the end of your alphabetical alcoholic adventures. * Tarri stares for two heartbeats, assimilating, and then nearly shrieks with joy. She throws her arms around Glossaria and hugs her tightly. <Glossaria> ::startles a little at Tarri's shriek, but readily hugs her back, looking over Tarri's shoulder at <Adam>: I'm pregnant, Master Adam. * Orlann blinks in astonishment and is nearly knocked off his barstool by an over-enthusiastic Tarri. <Tarri> Oh, I'm so happy for you! How wonderful! What did Vallie say? Is he excited? ::pauses and forces herself to draw a calming breath, then retreats a trifle sheepishly, returning to Orlann's backrub:: * Adam lifts his mug to Glossaria. "Congratulations Glossaria. And congratulations to Vallel as well." Adam drains his mug in toast. "Could I have another Rhys?" <Rhys> Of course, Adam. ::Rhys pours Adam another mug of the brown ale:: <Orlann> ::grins and shakes his head:: Well, I'm right happy f'r y'ma'am. And yer husband. ::the muscles in his shoulders relax minutely:: It's right nice t'have some good news, f'r a change. <Glossaria> ::smiles:: Vallel was quite surprised. It took him three full days to assimilate the news. But he's very proud. Well, and nervous, but I understand that's common for most newly expectant parents, and must simply be... abided. ::Gloss beams a smile, using her nibbled napkin to wipe suddenly moist eyes and draining the rest of her juice:: <Rhys> More juice, Madame duNache? <Tarri> ::grins and bounces a little on her toes as she rubs Orlann's neck:: That's so wonderful... Promise me I'm first on your babysitting list! * Adam grins and has some ale. <Glossaria> Yes, please. ::smiles:: As Loria's family will no doubt be well-occupied themselves and Mistress Zoya will be discovering the joys and cares of young children alongside me, I assure you, you are first on my list, Tarri. <Tarri> ::grins:: Good. <Glossaria> That is-- if you've no objections, Lieutenant? <Orlann> ::raises one eyebrow:: Only iffen she's got some sleep herself, y'know. She already pushes herself a mite too hard. <Tarri> ::meekly:: I'll behave, if it means I get to play with the baby! <Glossaria> ::putting a protective hand over her abdomen:: I promise not to entrust my offspring to her if she's sleep-deprived. * Glossaria's stomach grumbles loudly as she puts her hand over it. "Oh! Do excuse me." She picks up her spoon, looking a little mortified, and digs into her melon. <Tarri> ::mock-sniffs at Glossaria:: You'll be more sleep-deprived than *me*, I can guarantee. ::she grins:: <Orlann> ::shakes his head:: <Glossaria> Vallel will take care of me. He promised. ::she smiles again, a little shyly:: <Tarri> ::hugs Orlann quickly before resuming his backrub:: * Glossaria takes another several bites of melon, and grins slyly at Tarri. "Master Kevil lost a bet because of us, you know." <Tarri> Look! I'm on vacation now! Two weeks, and I won't do *any* work... ::pokes Orlann playfully in the ribs:: It would serve you right if I left all the housework for you to do, too... ::looks back at Glossaria:: Did he? * Adam looks questioningly at Gloss. <Orlann> ::snorts:: Like I cain't handle a little dish-doin'? <Glossaria> He did. ::taking another spoonful of melon, her expression almost angelic as she continues:: He felt sure that you would be before me. <Tarri> There you go! The housework, it's yours! ::she laughs and takes a drink from her wine glass:: <Tarri> ::chokes and spins to look at Gloss:: He *WHAT*? * Orlann ruefully wipes sprayed wine out of his hair. <Glossaria> Well, I was admittedly reticent on the notion of pregnancy... <Tarri> ::scandalized:: I'm not even *married*! <Glossaria> ::smugly:: That's what *I* told him. <Tarri> But- And I- He- ::she glances at Orlann, blushes furiously, and stamps her foot:: Oooh! <Orlann> ::raises an eyebrow:: Tha' unappealin' as a father-figure, am I? * Adam has some more ale, "Wonder if anyone will bet between Tarri and Temire." <Tarri> What? No, of course you'd- I mean- ::she groans and covers her face with her hands:: You're making fun of me, now... <Glossaria> Not at all, Lt. Orlann. I felt that Tarri's upbringing, combined with her education in the healing arts, would lead her to put off conception until after she was married. Admittedly, the society Master Kevil hails from his more open... I don't believe he properly considered the cultural influences. <Tarri> ::sniffs, muffled by her hands:: Try Master Kevil. * Orlann puts one arm around Tarri's shoulders. "I was only funnin' with you, darling." <Tarri> ::leans against Orlann and uncovers her face, though she's still bright red:: I know. Now you're *definitely* doing all the housework while I'm on vacation... ::she grins at him, then collects her glass and takes a healthy swallow:: <Orlann> ::puts the back of one hand against his forehead:: Oh! Th' horror! <Tarri> ::giggles:: You *do* know how to cook, don't you...? <Orlann> ::nods solemnly:: I do know how t'make one particular good thing... s'called 'reservations'. <Tarri> As long as we're eating on *your* coin... ::she glances at her stack of papers again:: ...I'm about out. I've enough saved for next month's rent, and then... ::she smiles weakly:: I hope the clinic takes off quick. <Glossaria> ::grins:: You're welcome at the Tower for a meal whenever you like. The Kitchen has been working overtime to... ahem... keep up with me. ::blushes again:: <Glossaria> ::raising her eyebrows:: You doubt it, Tarri? It was my understanding that you'd already built up a strong following of clientele locally. * Adam grins, "I'll be sure to send my apprentices your way Tarri. I do my best to keep them from getting hurt, but burns are a part of life for smithies. <Adam> " <Tarri> ::tentatively:: I've worked with a lot of local folk, but... well, a lot of them will probably rather stay with Master Bran... ::smiles gratefully at <Adam>: I'll be sure to keep some good burn paste in stock, then... <Glossaria> Mint? ::drains half of her apple juice again:: It's worth a try, as long as it's nothing potentially damaging. Oh! ::smiles:: I could test remedies. * Adam chuckles and shakes his head, "Glossaria, you are a researcher at heart. That child will probably be born with a book in its hands." <Tarri> oh, no, there's nothing dangerous about mint. It can help, too, if you've got any morning sickness, to settle your stomach, or at least take the sour taste out of your mouth. ::smiles:: <Glossaria> Well, I've been attempting not to... oh, dear. ::eyes her nibbled napkin:: Well, so much for that idea. <Orlann> shakes his head. <Tarri> ::looks at Orlann:: What? <Orlann> I'm right certain ever'thing'll be just fine. <Glossaria> ::raises her eyebrows at Orlann:: You are? How? <Tarri> Well, of course it will. <Orlann> ::taps the side of his temple:: Power o'positive thinkin'... <Glossaria> ::looks dubious:: While some psionics are capable of prognostication, I don't believe there are any who can actually *affect* the outcome of a particular event, except by direct action... <Rhys> I would suggest that the Lieutenant's tactic is at least more pleasant than assumptions and predictions of certain doom and calamity. <Tarri> ::laughs:: It's just a saying... <Glossaria> Oh. ::sighs:: I don't *assume* the worst, Master Rhys, but I do admit to some trepidation concerning it. Of course, I've been assured that some percentage of that is due to hormones, although that does not make it easier to bear, but there is still a great deal of uncertainty concerning the outcome of this pregnancy. <Tarri> And what can you do about it? <Glossaria> ::sighs again:: Take care, eat properly, drink sufficient fluids, visit the midwife regularly... pray... and worry. <Tarri> ::laughs:: Yep, you're definitely pregnant... I would never have pegged you for a worrier, though. <Glossaria> ::blinks:: Worry is endemic to pregnancy? It *would* make sense. There is so *much* to care for.... <Tarri> Especially first pregnancies, yes... ::she smiles into her wine glass:: Try to only worry about the things you can affect. <Glossaria> And... well... so many changes. ::adjusting the bustline of her dress slightly where it stretches across her, um, increased bustline.:: <Tarri> Easier said than done, I know, but... It's not like I have any personal experience to speak from. ::she shrugs and leans against Orlann, blushing faintly:: <Glossaria> ::seriously:: Perhaps not, but even your observational experience is greater than mine. There's something to be said for immersion learning techniques, after all. * Adam has some more ale. <Tarri> There, that's what I'd expect... It's all a wonderful learning experience. ::she grins:: But in truth, any healer will say the same - to worry over what you can't change is harmful. If you *must* worry, try to concentrate on the things you can fix. <Glossaria> Besides, the one constant I've learned in all the interviews I've conducted recently is that *every* pregnancy is different. Even from first to second, with identical parents and sex. <Tarri> ::nods:: I've heard that. <Glossaria> ::takes another spoonful of melon, scraping along the rind carefully:: And I admit, I had not anticipated the effect of... how did the Goody put it? Ah-- "rampant hormones." I have been... distressingly, excessively emotional. <Rhys> In that case, I hate to say it, but last call, everyone. <Tarri> Oh, dear... ::she drinks the last swallow of her wine:: No more for me. ::she fishes a few coins out of her pocket and puts them on the bar:: Thank you, Master Altain. <Glossaria> ::looking alarmed, tears pricking her eyes again:: Because... because I'm hormonal? Oh dear... stop it, stop it... ::blotting her eyes again:: * Adam drains his mug, "I'm fine Rhys. Want an escort home Glossaria? It'll give me an opportunity to give Vallel my congratulations personally." <Tarri> Because it's getting late, silly. ::she pats Gloss's arm with a smile, then spontaneously hugs her again:: Tell Vallie I said congratulations, to you both. * Orlann pays for his whiskey and offers Tarri his arm. <Rhys> You're welcome, Miss Mandeil. Congratulations on your clinic, and enjoy your vacation while it lasts. * Tarri takes Orlann's arm with a faintly mischievous smile. "What, you're not going to carry me?" <Glossaria> I will. ::smiles at Tarri through her tears and sniffles, finishing off the last of her melon quickly:: I would appreciate that very much, Master Adam. I fear I tire easily these days, as well, and-- ::yawns hugely:: Oh, dear.... * Rhys smiles. "Adam will make sure you get home safely, even if you fall asleep on your feet on the way there. Good night." * Glossaria fishes coins from her beltpouch, adding a couple for the now moth-eaten napkin:: I'm sorry, Master Rhys, it's my fault. I'll be better... oh, eventually. I hope." <Adam> ::chuckle:: If I'm remembering correctly that will pass in a few months. <Orlann> ::snorts:: No, I ain't... it's a bit of a fair step, y'know... <Adam> drops some coin on the bar then holds the door for Glossaria. <Tarri> Spoilsport... ::she laughs and leans against Orlann's side as they leave:: <Glossaria> I do hope so. It's been very difficult to complete tasks. ::taking a cloak from a deceptively small pocket and wrapping it around herself before following Adam out:: Goodnight, all. * Rhys smiles, trails behind everyone, and locks the door once they're all through. "Well. That was interesting..." |
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